


Mary Magdalene's Records

by enkelimagnus



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Bittersweet, Canon Compliant, Canon Era, Gen, Made-Up Warlock Tradition, Magnus Bane Appreciation Month, Magnus having older friends, Mary Magdalene is a Queer Middle-Eastern Warlock with Reptilian EYes, Mention of Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood - Relationship - Freeform, Mentor Relationship, Warlock Culture, Warlock Lore, mentions of canon character deaths
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-11
Updated: 2018-10-11
Packaged: 2019-07-29 15:25:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16266983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enkelimagnus/pseuds/enkelimagnus
Summary: Magnus Bane visits an old warlock friend of his who works in the Library of the Vatican.





	Mary Magdalene's Records

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my dear friend @lewispanda for the religious stuff! and to my friends as a whole for helping out with this!

The burning edges of the portal closed back on themselves as Magnus stepped away from it. The library was plunged in darkness, wooden panels covering the walls, and somehow absorbing the sound of his boots on the floor. 

The Vatican was a strange, solemn place. Every library was, really, solemn in a way. But the Vatican’s? It was even stranger a place. It was out of time. In recent years, computers had been added to the reading rooms, but the deepest parts of the library were still untouched by time. Magnus knew that if he was to spend too much time in between those rows of bookshelves, he would forget about time passing outside of it. He would come out surprised by the century he was in. 

He wondered how she felt. Spending so long in the library, decades and centuries. He wondered how she was still working there. How she still existed. She was the oldest Downworlder he knew. Maybe she even was older than the Seelie Queen.

She was sitting at her usual seat, at her usual desk, in the middle of a pool of light. A relatively small, thin Middle-Eastern woman. Her dark hair was wrapped in a shawl, as always. She still looked as young as she had the last time he’d seen her. She never aged. Magnus should be used to her never-ending youth, because she was as much of a warlock as he was. Still, somehow, he expected that a two-thousand years old woman would look… somewhat older. Venerable. Wise-beyond-years. 

“שלום, מרים הקדושה,” Magnus said softly when he reached the reading table, and looked at the woman sitting there. 

“Hello, Magnus,” the woman replied, a wide smile appearing on her lips as she looked at him. “It has been long since anyone called me Holy Mary.” 

Magnus took a seat across from her, crossing his legs. The woman looked at him. As Magnus unglamored his eyes, she did so as well. Cat eyes stared into snake eyes. 

“Was I the last person to address you that way?” 

“As always, dear. As always. Few know my real name. Or my real nature.” She hummed as she turned the page of a heavy volume she was reading.

Magnus didn’t know the language of it. He always felt a bit small and ignorant, next to her. The warlock in front of him knew more about many things than anyone else in the world. Especially religion, history, culture and languages.

“And you are the only one that speaks to me in Hebrew. I am glad I taught you this one.” She had a small smile. She traced a circle around a sentence on the book she was reading, and her fingers left behind a light golden trail. Magical bookmarks. Only people with the Sight could see it. 

“I brought you cupcakes,” Magnus pointed out, snapping his fingers, and a box of cupcakes from Magnolia Bakery appeared in front of her. It had been the biggest fad, the last time he’d come to visit Mary Magdalene. She’d always loved cupcakes, but these were now her favorites. 

Mary’s eyes immediately narrowed. “Dear, what do you want from me this time?” 

Magnus watched as she reached for the box and took out one of the cupcakes. “Do I have to want anything from you? Can’t I just want to bring cupcakes to my favorite Catholic saint?” 

“The last time you brought me cupcakes, I had to lie to Cardinal Jorge María Mejía about you taking out three very precious manuscripts,” she pointed out. “Manuscripts that you have yet to return.” 

Magnus chuckled. “Do not worry, I am not here for books today.” 

“Then why the bribe, Magnus?” 

“It’s not a bribe. I just… wanted to come and catch up, and I thought you’d like these.” It was true. Magnus had just missed Mary Magdalene. She was the kind of person he loved being around. Brilliant, wise, knowledgeable. “You’re my Cupcake, after all.” 

The woman chuckled, and bit into the vanilla cupcake she had in her hand. A part of Magnus was almost ecstatic at the sight. The oldest warlock in the world, Saint Mary Magdalene, eating a cupcake in the middle of the Vatican Library, in the middle of the night. 

He’d told her he’d bring Ragnor to one of their reunions one of these days. Mary would have loved his dry wit. And the fact that he was aromantic and asexual, like her friend and mentor Jesus had been. It was impossible to do so now. 

“Why the sour face, dear?” Mary reached to take his hand and squeezed it. Magnus felt the magic in her reach out to his. Her power was bigger, deeper than anything he could imagine. “Another lover breaking that fragile heart of yours? Who are they?” 

“Actually… my love life is good. I'm just still mourning some dear friends that I lost.” 

Mary sighed. “Warlocks? I will need you to tell me, my dear, so I can write it down in the book.” 

“I know. It is why I came.” 

Mary Magdalene was the main Warlock Archivist. She worked closely with the Spiral Labyrinth, compiling the lives and deaths of warlocks all around the globe. Most people would announce a warlock’s death with a fire message. Magnus always preferred coming to her. 

The woman stood up. Her robes were large and floated around her. Sometimes, Magnus wondered if anything that touched her wasn’t immediately charged with magic. He himself could somehow feel the way her magic made his own grow. 

She came back soon after with a heavy volume. “Tell me now, my child,” she whispered. “Tell me now, and tell me quick, and when they will be written, then the pain shall lessen.” A quill appeared in one of her hands. 

“Ragnor Fell. Warlock mark, horns.” As he spoke, the pages of the book started turning on their own, until it found the record of Ragnor’s birth. 

“Hmm. Regrettable.” Mary whispered. “Born 1345. A good year.” 

“Died 2016. Shax demon attack.” 

Mary nodded and wrote it down in the book. Magnus felt his heart stop beating for a moment. It was so final. The moment it was written in Mary Magdalene’s Records… it was the moment where it was really official. Ragnor Fell was dead. 

“Next one, child,” she said softly. 

Magnus took a deep breath. “Dorothea Rollins. Born 1608. Her warlock mark was serpent’s tongue. Died 2016. Unknown cause.” 

“She must have been one of my step sisters,” Mary muttered when the book stopped again, and she wrote down the death. “Sad, sad fate.” 

Magnus watched her write down the words in English. She had a beautiful, archaic script. He wondered how many of her step-siblings Mary had compiled in her books. He also wondered how many of his were written down. 

“Anything else, dear?” Mary’s smile was soft. 

“Elliot Nourse. Died 2016. Warlock mark, purple skin,” Magnus added again. Mary sighed deeply. Three warlocks in so little time. That was rare, and it was a testimony of very dangerous times. 

“Some good news. Madzie Loss. Born 2010. Warlock mark, gills. She’s a wonderful healthy little girl being raised by my friend Catarina. We’re very happy,” Magnus said, and smiled. Amongst all the pain, there were some occasional moments of happiness. 

Madzie had been one of those. Alec was another one. 

Mary closed the records and pushed them aside, reaching for Magnus’ hand again. He let her take it. 

“You’re smiling more than you have in many years, my friend, and yet you’ve been through so much pain. What is so good that makes you smile this way?” 

“Love, Mary,” he replied softly, and let his thumb caress her skin. She smiled back. 

“You and love. Always so ready to fall.”

“He’s a Shadowhunter,” Magnus muttered, and she stopped to look at him with a raised eyebrow. He pulled up his other hand, in a stopping motion, before she could speak. “He loves me too.” 

“That’s good. Tell me everything.” She pulled away her hand and reached for cupcakes again. 

She snapped her fingers and suddenly, there was a whole tea set in front of them. Magnus grinned and poured them some tea, starting to tell her everything about Alexander Lightwood.

Mary Magdalene nodded and smiled as he talked, watching her long-time friend speak so happily about his lover. There was something so incredibly young about Magnus Bane when he was in love. She’d seen him look and carry himself as if he were older than he was, older than she was. She’d never seen him this light, never, in all those years. 

Warlocks needed this lightness. She found hers in her lovers, wonderful smart women and men that occasionally shared her life. She found hers in her books, and in age-old words. Words that were so ancient, too ancient for most people, but just right for her. She was too ancient for most people. She’d seen too much, and yet so little.


End file.
